


Poisoned Heavens

by HushedMelody



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ableism in the military, Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Dean Winchester-centric, Disabled Dean Winchester, Gen, M/M, Open Ending, Short, un-beta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 01:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11590485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HushedMelody/pseuds/HushedMelody
Summary: Hepromisedhe’d come home.





	Poisoned Heavens

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I’m British not American so I only know basic knowledge from Google that was required for this fic. If I wrote any sort of info incorrectly please let me know in the comments :)

Dean watched from the window as another of soldier walked to a neighbour’s doorstep. Straight backs and formal tongues, coming to inform their son/brother/husband won’t be returning from the war “We are terribly sorry for your loss” or “They were a hero” or if they were stupid enough “It was for the greater good”, because as long as they came home safe and _alive_ it didn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter.  
A woman in a dull factory uniform opens the door. Dean can only wonder how her life has changed in one of those bitter, sorrowful words as they leave the soldier’s stiff lips.  
It’s always the same: tears, denial, anger. Choked with the sour truth.  
Always the same.  
It’s heart-breaking for it to happen to someone you “know” like a friend of a friend or an old school acquaintance you lost contact with, or just the town’s gossips who can’t keep their trap shut… Or like now, a fellow resident on this winding street. You may not “know” them but it doesn’t make it any less terrible, like it affected you almost as much as them by only the slightest of association. It won’t ever make it any less terrible.  
Until, of course it happens to you.

* * *

Cas’ dream was always to become a pilot. To rise into the high abyss to touch the soft gentle clouds and feel the way they move under his fingertips. Granted, the war didn’t grant his wish despite what it may look like, instead of silk clouds there were thunderous beasts that patrolled the vengeful skies, lightning forks flickering the dark mass. Not to mention the dog fights that plagued the heavens with bullets and choking flames.  
The only reason Dean was even _here_ and not in the line of fire where he _should be_ is because he’s “recovering”. You see, the war needs strong able bodies fighting and out running bullets on the line of fire. They don’t need men with only half of their left leg.  
Cas, however was sent as soon as possible, snatched from the sunny days and ascended to the hash heavens above, an angel spreading his wings for war.  
Just before he left through the door he uttered one last promise: “I’ll be back. I promise I’ll return to this very door and we won’t have to worry anymore.” One last bittersweet smile that doesn’t reach his sad, glassy eyes before stepping out into death’s bony, outstretched arms.

* * *

There’s a knock on the door and behind it's a soldier.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, it's the reader's decision whether Cas is behind the door or if it's a soldier with bad news, I don't think I did a good job keeping it ambiguous but I tried.


End file.
